Unfurling Her Wings
by kaletra7
Summary: She was a tiny angel, without the strength to fly. And he helped her to take wing and soar. CaringErik time.
1. Chapter 1

**Hmm, okay…**

**So this is my first attempt at writing anything that's not Skulduggery Pleasant stuff, but I love this movie/musical/whatever else so much, and an idea struck me. So… yeah.**

**Also, THIS IS NOT AN ERIK/OC STORY. And the little girl is NOT Christine either, because for some reason that's what my mum thought :S**

**And finally, I am writing this because my favourite Erik is ProtectiveAndCaringErik… well, that and ShirtlessErik ;)**

**Enjoy.**

Erik's hawk-like vision swept over the stage. The ballet rats were rehearsing for the latest opera the Opera Populaire was to perform, and the complex dance routines called for extreme precision. Precision, Erik decided, that these girls did not have in abundance. Yes, they were beautiful dancers, but they did not put everything they had into their performances. He let out a small sigh and turned away, but not before a different dancer caught his eye.

She was new. So new, in fact, that she hadn't rehearsed this opera before. But what really melted Erik's heart was her age. She couldn't have been more than eight years old, and she was small even for that. Her dancing was not perfect, but she showed a promising talent, and she was _trying_.

He glanced at Madame Giry, and her expression confirmed his thoughts. She too was looking at the girl with a mixture of hope and joy, as if thinking of something more than just the dance.

Erik turned his attention back to the stage as the routine finished. The older girls pirouetted around in a circle as the smallest dancer fell to one knee and mimed falling asleep, with her hands clasped in a prayer position on her cheek. As the last few notes died away, Erik was already travelling around in the shadows with his practised ease.

He reached where Antoinette Giry stood, watching the dancers scurry offstage, and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

'Who…?' he began.

'Her name is Maria, Erik.' Antoinette rasped, without turning. Her age was quickly catching up with her, and she was nearing the brink of ill health. 'She was brought here by her parents a week ago. They seemed in an awful hurry to get rid of her.'

'Thank you,' he whispered, and then vanished back into the shadows.

*_*_*_*_*

Maria's smile stretched ear-to-ear on her rosy face as she beamed at Antoinette.

'I did it, Madame!' she cried, and Antoinette smiled back at her in a motherly way.

'Indeed you did, child. Now, why don't you go with the big girls and see if they will plait your hair, my dear.'

Maria nodded vigorously and scurried off after the ballet girls to the dormitories.

**Review please? It would make me really happy :) And maybe I will update quicker…**


	2. Chapter 2

**I know, I know, I should have updated this an awful long time ago. The (quite amusing) truth is the last time I updated this story was right after I saw Love Never Dies for the first time. Yesterday I saw it again, and was immediately inspired to continue.**

**So there you have it.**

**Enjoy.**

No one would ever noticed the shadow that moved through the Opera Populaire in the darkness of the night. Erik knew this, and yet still he stayed silent and well-hidden. The chance of him being discovered or followed was a constant tingle in the back of his mind.

From the black corridors, a tiny sob reached his ears. Erik froze, listening out for a repeat of the noise, and he didn't wait long. Another cry reached his ears and he immediately turned, heading for the source of the sounds. Eventually, while crouching in a crevice of the ceiling, Erik noticed a miniature figure behind a stack of paintings covered in a sheet. He instantly felt a pang in his heart as he recognised the young dancer from earlier in the day – despite the dark reputation of the Phantom of the Opera, he could never stand to see a child cry.

And yet what could he do? Ask her why she was crying? But then she would merely run in fear from the mysterious voice calling to her from the shadows. Although at least then she would not be crying so. Perhaps it was at least a temporary solution.

'_Oh little child, why do you cry?' _he sang softly, letting the acoustic design of the building magnify his voice to reach the child. Her head immediately shot upwards, staring in all directions of the room with wide, tear-stained eyes.

'I am so sorry, Monsieur!' she cried. 'I hope I did not disturb you.'

'Of course not, dear child,' Erik replied, feeling suppressed anger towards anyone that could raise their voice against an upset child. 'I merely wondered if you were hurt.'

'Oh no, Monsieur,' the child sniffed. 'But... I wonder why I can't see you.'

Erik chuckled softly. 'I am simply here for you to tell me your worry, Mademoiselle.'

She blinked with uncertainty, but then looked down to her folded hands in her lap. Inside them, Erik could see something shiny, but her little fingers were clasped so tightly around the object that he could see nothing else.

'Madame Giry said that I may ask the big girls to plait my hair for me, but when I asked they said they were busy. And then they laughed and said I was not good enough to dance with them. Then the tall girl with the red hair broke my tiara, Monsieur.' She raised both hands, and in each hand was half of what Erik guessed was one of this girl's favourite possessions. This day was really creating his intense hatred for the whorish ballet rats. The girl lowered her hands again, looked at the broken pieces of her tiara and burst into a fresh round of tears.

'Mademoiselle, please allow me to assist you,' he announced. The child looked up towards the ceiling, albeit in the entire wrong direction, and asked him how he could help her.

'If you leave your tiara on the blanket next to you, and then go to your dormitory and return here in the morning, I will do what I can to fix it for you. Does that suit you, my dear?'

The girl's eyes lit up with delight and she jumped to her feet. 'You would do that for me, Monsieur?'

'It would be my pleasure.'

She carefully laid her broken treasure on the pile of blankets, and then scurried away, clearly too excited about the prospect of her tiara being fixed to worry about the identity of her mysterious helper. Erik watched her leave the room, but quickly stopped himself from dropping down as she reappeared in the doorway.

'Monsieur?' she asked the seemingly empty room. 'Are you an angel?'

The words hit Erik hard, and memories of being known as an angel flooded towards him. He forced out a chuckle, although his heart ached at her words.

'Go to bed, it's late.'

The girl nodded obediently and left once more, only this time her light footfalls told Erik she had indeed left for the dormitory. He dropped from his perch in the rafters and gently picked up the two halves of the broken silver. Smiling, he melted away into the shadows, content that he would do what he could to return a smile to the little girl's face.

**AN: This is quite sweet. Review please? It would make my day :)**

**And the 'Oh little child, why do you cry?' is written to fit with 'Brava, brava, bravissima.' Sing it if you don't believe me.**


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